Consanguinity
by Lizardios
Summary: Mystery Science Theater 3000. If Joel was the father, what did that make Mike? Babysitter for an indefinite amount of time? Distant uncle? That strange man who keeps visiting yet nobody will admit knowing? And where does he stand in the family hierarchy?
1. Chapter 1

**Consanguinity**

Crow T Robot, Mike decided, was starting to get out of control. Maybe it was boredom, maybe it was a form of rebellion, or maybe there was some other reason for it, but whatever the case, the gangly gold robot was starting to make life even more difficult than usual.

The odd pranks here and there, Mike could cope with. He even did the odd prank in revenge, if he could ever think up an appropriate method of vengeance. He was ashamed to admit that 'both Crow and Tom Servo tended to get away with their pranks more times than not simply through the fact that they were much more devious than him. It was almost as if they were made for it; he considered looking for a way to contact their creator just to ask 'did you deliberately make them devious pranksters?'

But recently Crow had been kicking up more pranks, and some of them in no way amusing; Mike could take a joke, even one at his own expense, but some of the pranks lately had started reaching into a spiteful state.

Cambot was currently out of commission due to a trap that had ended up hurling a number of wrenches at whoever triggered it, and was laid on a workbench in several pieces as Mike tried to fix the little 'bot whenever he had free time. It was more difficult than he had anticipated, and he really wished that Joel had left notes on the construction of his creations so that the temp at least had some sort of reference guide. Gypsy was a big help when she was available, but usually she was off doing whatever it was that needed doing around the SoL.

Still, Mike felt a slight guilt that he was glad it was Cambot that had triggered the trap and not him. Cambot was at repairable at least; he doubted he'd be recovering nearly so well if he'd taken the wrenches to his skull.

A week later and he was forced to put a temporary halt to his repairs on Cambot as he was required to help Gypsy untangle herself from… the Cargo Bay's ceiling rafters? He didn't bother asking beyond confirming that it had, indeed, been Crow who was responsible… not that he'd needed to, as Servo had been the one to collect him, and Mike doubted that Servo would want his own work to be undone.

…Why did a space station require ceiling rafters?

Another question he didn't ask, simply filing away that it was probably because Forrester was mad, as was his original partner, at least according to what little information he'd managed to gleam from the 'bots, all of whom were rather tight lipped about anything to do with Joel, other than to say he was an unwanted replacement. Who was he to question the minds of mad scientists?

Once Gypsy was fully untangled, he was forced to go to the control room as he was over-due for a communication from Forrester. 'Yadda yadda yadda… Movie for the day is horrible… yadda yadda yadda… movie of the day is Martians Go Home.'

Sounded like a horror but Mike vaguely recalled once watching that film… it was a comedy. A bad one in his opinion, but then, Forrester was hardly about to send up a good movie.

He trudged into the theatre, gave his usual riffs alongside the 'bots, left at the films end even more annoyed at Crow because of his ever increasing use of inappropriate innuendos. The golden 'bot had only stopped after Mike had threatened to tape his beak shut, and actually meant it. It hadn't helped that there had been a brief scene of nudity in the film, only a couple of seconds long, but it had been enough to prompt Crow.

Next morning, Mike decided to forgo breakfast in order to try and finish the repairs on Cambot. So there he sat, screwdriver in hand, eyes aching at the mess of circuits that made up the little 'bots insides. Gypsy had slithered in after a while and took mercy on the human and started giving him instructions. Under the guidance of someone who actually knew what they were doing, Mike finally finished with the majority of the repairs, bringing life back to the spherical little 'bot. However, he found himself triggering an over-ride to put the small robot into sleep mode until he could finish the last of the repairs. The only thing remaining being a replacement lens for the actual cam-part of Cambot, without which, the 'bot was blind. Sleep mode was a mercy for one who relied on sight more so than any of the others.

Considering his options, Mike's stomach gave him clear instructions and he moved to the kitchen to make himself some… dinner? Had it really been that long? Gypsy slithered alongside him, chatting about whatever came to mind. He listened with half an ear, nodding where appropriate. And then just outside the kitchen, Crow's latest trap rose up, and with it went Mike, who was left dangling by the foot which had been unfortunate enough to step in the snare.

Contrary to what fiction, more specifically, children's cartoons claim, being yanked upside down by a snare trap was actually very, very painful. The snare was almost certainly cutting off his foot's circulation, and he wouldn't have been surprised if he'd been told that the trap triggering had fractured his ankle, which was currently supporting his entire bodyweight, so if it was fractured, it was only going to get worse. All this was not helped by the fact that Mike's head hit the ground when his leg had shot up from under him, just before being lifted high enough to dangle high enough that his finger-tips could barely touch the ground.

Assessing himself as best he could, Mike found that he had a massive lump on the back of his head, though no blood, thankfully; but the snare was made of a fairly thin wire which was beginning to dig into his flesh, not-so thankfully.

'This is getting outta hand.' Mike grumbled, watching Gypsy follow the wire, trying to find the point to set him free.

Gypsy gave a sound of agreement.

'I get in comedy these traps are amusing, but these snare traps are known to kill.'

The serpentine robot turned and gave him a look that he translated into concern.

'I'm fine, but Crow really has gone too far.'

Gypsy gave a nod and bit into a piece of the wire, cutting him free. Unfortunately, Mike had forgotten that he was a victim of gravity and promptly fell to the floor with an 'oof.' He was rewarded with a second bump to keep the first company for his negligence, but he ignored the pain, and turned to Gypsy.

'How do I stop him.'

'You're asking me?' Gypsy asked, surprise in her tone.

'You've known him longer than I have.'

The robot's tube-like coils give a pretty good imitation of a shrug. Sighing, he changed tactics.

'What would Joel have done?' He asked.

Gypsy actually thought about the answer to this question, before giving another shrug-like gesture.

'Put him in time out?' She asked back, voice sounding more slurred than usual as she dedicated some of her already over-taxed CPUs on the answer to the question presented to her.

The temp frowned in thought. The idea had some appeal, but he personally doubted that the 'bot would actually stay in time out once Mike's back was turned. The fact was, he wasn't Joel; he didn't have the same respect they had for their father… actually, he had no respect from the 'bots, unless it was respect for being a perfectly good victim of their pranks.

As if sensing his doubt, Gypsy spoke up.

'Once in time out, he'll stay.'

Mike raised an eyebrow as he looked at her, receiving yet another shrug.

'Worth a shot I suppose.' He finally concluded.

* * *

Thankfully, Mike managed to eat his meal without any more of Crow's traps being triggered.

Grumbling, he considered going and trying Gypsy's advice of putting Crow in time out right then, but the wave of nausea from the two lumps on the back of his head had him deciding that sleep was the only option available to him at that moment. He shouldn't have eaten, really, but he'd wanted to have something in his stomach by the end of the day, and nothing helped his mood better than eating a nice bowl of white rice.

The next day, Crow was nowhere in sight, which made the temp feel slightly nervous. Crow in plain sight meant less elaborate pranks and traps, and distractions from actually finishing said pranks and traps. The trap that had damaged Cambot had been a day in the making, the golden 'bot having been hidden away the entire time.

Apparently sensing that Mike was not in the mood to try any of his usual jokes, Tom steered well clear of the jumpsuit clad human, watching him warily.

It wasn't until much later that Mike stumbled across Crow, accidentally triggering the as yet unfinished trap. Thankfully he had the foresight to dive to the ground, the kitchen knives flying through the space he'd previously occupied.

Ironically, it had been after Mike had given up finding Crow and had started to look for a replacement lens for Cambot. Murphy's Law had struck him, and he was of mixed opinions as to whether to be grateful or not. On one hand, he'd found Crow, on the other, dodging flying daggers was not his idea of a good time.

'Hey!' Crow complained, seeing that his hard work had just been ruined. 'Servo was meant to trigger that trap.'

'Knives, Crow?' Mike managed to ask, voice monotone as he lifted himself off the floor.

'Pfft. Not like they'll do **too** much damage to Servo.' Crow shrugged, moving to start resetting his trap.

'Sure.' Mike agreed, voice dryer than the Sahara Desert. 'It'd only have hurt **me**.'

Crow must have sensed something in Mike's voice, as he slowly looked away from his work, looking very much like he wanted to gulp.

'Well, you hardly ever enter this part of the satellite.' He claimed. 'Why **are** you here?'

'Looking for you, strangely enough.'

Crow back-pedalled slightly, laughing nervously, clearly sensing that he wasn't going to like what was about to come.

* * *

'You're not my father! I hate you!' Crow screeched at Mike, who winced at the volume.

'You're right! I'm **not** your father; I feel more like an older brother who's been forced into baby-sitting you.'

Well, that or an uncle, though the attachment he felt towards the 'bots was more brotherly than uncle-y. He doubted they returned the sentiment, but that was what he felt at least.

Pulling the still struggling 'bot, Mike reached the corner that Gypsy had claimed was Crow's 'Time Out spot' back when Joel had still been onboard, there was even a stool there, looking… well, like a stool. Seeing the stool, Crow doubled his efforts to escape Mike's grip, screaming that he had no right to punish him.

True to Gypsy's word though, once Crow was actually on the stool, the fight seemed to just drain from his body, instead he just sat there, facing the corner, bawling.

Checking the time on his wristwatch, Mike made a note to release him at a particular time, and backed out of the room's only exit, though he found himself keeping an eye on the door for the entirety of the time, uncertain.

Kids were unfamiliar grounds for the simple Wisconsian, he'd had never expressed an interest in having any, never had any younger siblings, so he had very little to nil experience regarding children.

And thus he found himself unsure of how to go from here. How long was he supposed to keep Crow in time out? Was there some other action he was required to take? Questions, questions and more questions… was he even doing this properly?

His head connected with the wall as Mike attempted to clear his thoughts of the doubt, but the feeling persisted, stubbornly clinging to the edge of his mind.

It took too long, in his opinion at least, for the amount of time he'd told himself he'd wait before releasing Crow from time out, or whatever the term was, the former temp re-entered the room. The golden 'bot was still sat in the corner, though he was no longer bawling but just sobbing quietly. Upon hearing Mike's entrance, Crow turned his head just enough to see who had entered, before trying to stop himself from further sobs, though every few seconds he'd make a sniffing sound, a feat that Mike wasn't feeling up to working out whether a robot should be able to do, considering the lack of nostrils.

'Go on.' Mike finally said after several seconds of trying to think of exactly what he was supposed to say.

Crow seemed to understand that he was being released, and slid off of the stool, shooting a glare at Mike as he stalked out of the room before Mike could even consider saying anything else.

* * *

End of the day, or what passed as day in the Satellite of Love. For all he knew, it was daytime back down in the part of the world he'd lived in before being conked on the noggin and shot into space by a pair of mad scientists. Mike massaged his temples, ears still ringing from Crow's earlier shouts and bawling. Though he preferred the noise to the silent treatment he'd gotten the rest of the day.

Again he mused on whether I had been a design choice on Joel's part to make his creations so child-like.

After a quick shower, Mike climbed into his bed, pulling the thin duvet over himself and tried to get some sleep.

Roughly half an hour later, or so he guessed, admittedly his perception of time was never very good when he was half asleep, the door opened. Growling, Mike shoved his head deeper into his pillow, grinding out a simple:

'Not now.'

Apparently, whoever it was didn't hear him, because they continued to stay in the doorway, but he was too tired to care, instead opting for the tried and true 'ignore it 'till it goes away'. For a moment it seemed like it worked, the door slid shut again and for a minute he was alone in the dark.

Then his mattress shifted as someone else but their weight on one side. The duvet was briefly lifted as whoever (Mike had a fairly good guess as to who it was) climbed under. After another second; and Mike felt the long, spindly arms wrap around him.

'I'm sorry, Mike.' Crow murmured into Mike's ear.

Sighing… Mike absently patted the arm.

'I really am.'

Mike believed him, could hear the regret in his voice.

'You're forgiven.' Mike told him. 'Are you planning on sleeping in my bed or going to your own?'

Silence. A glance at the golden robot that was cuddled up to him revealed that Crow was in sleep mode.

'Sleeping with me then.' Mike answered his own question, patting the arm again.

Maybe Crow did see him as an older brother.

* * *

AN:: The Result of watching too much MST3K and then pondering crap that probably shouldn't have been pondered… and then pondering other stuff and somehow this was the result.

A word about the last scene… I don't know whether it's normal for a younger sibling to want to sleep in the same bed as the older sibling they upset that day, I'm not a people person, I don't understand people and their emotions (and children are even harder to understand). Blame it on the aspergers syndrome, but humans confuse and scare me, and I'd really rather just hole myself in my 'pit' away from the scary world. As a result, I have to rely on my own experiences with my younger siblings. When they were younger; they had this annoying habit of trying to sleep in the same bed as me if they'd seriously upset me earlier that day, sort of a way of showing that they are sorry or some such… I don't know… Hell, now I'm hurting my mind trying to ponder more crap… give me a computer, I understand computers. People, they just confuse and scare the crap outta me.

Wait… why am I even saying this? Since when do I explain myself? Remember its fiction, so sit back and relax and enjoy the damned one-shot.

Oh, and I'm aware this is usually at the top, but - Disclaimer: I own nothing. Other people own stuff, but not me.


	2. Cute

**Cute**

He'd called them cute, back when he first saw them on a large screen that his employers had been talking at. There had been the strange man and the two robots on screen and he'd instantly thought 'wow, cute robots'.

Now that he was stuck with them 24/7, he was re-evaluating his opinion on them. They were rude, mean and devious little things… but yes, they were still cute, just not in the same way he'd considered them back then. Before, he'd considered them cute in that 'oh look, strange little things that are somehow endearing'. Now they were cute in that 'they're pests, but they're **my** pests' way.

He wouldn't trade them for anyone or anything else.


End file.
